My Tomatita
by The Puzzler of Riddles
Summary: My Immortal: Hetalia Style! What if other characters realized something was amiss? Rating probably too high.
1. The beginning of a shitty story

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia. Or My Immortal. Thank god. This disclaimer applies to all other chapters.**

**A/N: So I've decided to try and do a parody of the wonderfully infamous fic: My Immortal. I'm not exactly sure if this will follow along completely, or if the characters will act "ooc" but please bear with me as I attempt (and fail) to make you laugh. Thanks for reading.**

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Hi! I'm Lovina Juanita Negra Esperanza Nina Vargas and I have shiny orange hair with a very eroganous curl. It's because I'm Italian. My eyes are are amber that shine brightly like the moon. People say it reminds them of honey or the moon or Shakira. (If you don't who that is, you're a bastardo!)**.** I'm also a nation. I'm the other Italy. Southern Italia. I'm several hundred years old, but I look eighteen. I'm Italian in case you didn't know. Italians always like to dress smutily so today I was wearing a denim miniskirt with a red tank top decorated with an embroidered tomato. It's not because I like any one che cazzo! I just like tomatos dammit. Like Antonio. Dammit.

I was also wearing black high heels because it made me look tanner. I'm already tan , but the boots just brought out my natural tanness.

I was sitting in the conference room. the meeting had just finished. Francis and Prussia stared at me. He was obviously looking at my boobies. I cursed them out. Damn Perverts.

"Hola Lovi!" a voice shouted. I glanced over at the bad touch trio. It was Antonio.

"What's up toni." I murmered shyly. Sooo hot!

He tilted his head and smiled slightly. Too embarassed too speak!

But then I heard my colleagues call. I went away. He looked like he was about to say something.

* * *

The bad touch trio stared at "Romano" as he/ she left the conference room, looking slightly disturbed. "Why does Lovi have boobs?"


	2. Chapter two of a mostly plotless tale

The next day was sunny again. Perfect for tomatoes.

I climbed out of bed. It was red, white, and green. Like my flag. I put on my day clothes. A purple kimono that wraps around my curves with leg slits. It was very sexy. I then added a purple tomato necklace. and little gun earrings. They were a gift from the mafia.

My friend Alexandra joined me. She stretched. Clambered out of bed and put on her black mini dress. It is really sexy. she then went to take a shower. when she got out she opened her emerald green eyes. She's really pretty. She has really big boobs, Also she has platinum blonde hair down her back. and she shave everywhere.

Her name used to be England, but she changed it, along with her gender, when we became friends. As a sign of friendship. We started walking to the great hall. I couldn't wait for the meeting to start.

"So... I saw you with Espana yesterday." she began conversationally.

"What of it!" I shot back cooly. So what if I had been seen with tomato bastardo.

"well..." her smirk grew larger... "he's kinda hot."

"No I so effing don't!" I shot back.

"Hello... Lovi..." Anthony said. His eyes darted to Alexandra. "Inglaterra?"

We had run into the bad touch trio. Bastards.

"I have tickets... Shakira..." He stuttered. I gasped!

* * *

The Bad Touch Trio couldn't staring, not that Lovina noticed. They were scared. Terrified even. First South Italy, then England! How many more nations were to lose their manhood!?

Spain gulped. He couldn't back down now. Had to stick with the plan. "Tickets..." he stuttered. The boobs on Inglaterra were "only" slightly terrifying. "Shakira..." Not that he was a big fan, but it would be a good chance to get the creature alone.

The thing started to asphyxiate.


	3. In which characters are OOC

On the night of the shakira concert, I stripped and put on my neon green tomato earrings. I also wore a wavy skirt, kinda what a flamenco dancer would wear, and a white puffy sleeved blouse, reminscient of the middle ages, except that it fit in just the right spots. For once, I felt pretty. I also wore a neon black choker. The kind that flamenco dancers wear. I smiled and applied some lipstick. Itallian women must look their best, after all. I also painted my nails red, and I was ready to go.

I left my hotel room and went outside. Spagna knocked on the door.

"Hi Spain." I said coyly.

"Hi.. Lovina." I felt bad. I make a lot of guys trip over their words. We went to his Jaguar. It was tomato red. Very sexy. and drove to the place with the concert. It was a coffee shop. On the way whe shared a tommato. Spanien graciously gave most of it to me. Such a gentleman. We then had a tomato sauce fight.

When we got there, we went straight to the front and started tangoing to Shakira.

"Today's your day, I feel it." It was inspirational, very ethnic. Shakira was so sexy.

"Shakira is so fucking sexy" I cried excitedly! Spain looked sad.

I glared at him. Stupid Tomato Bastard ruining the evening. Then I figured it out.

"I do like you the best" I whispered, as we did one final twirl, completing our intimate dance. He didn't seem as sad after that

Then we left. We got into his car and drove away. We get back right away though. Instead Espana pulled over... on the side of the highway!

...

Spain was seriously pissed off/ freaked out. This was NOT in the plan!

First he's forced to do this weird twirly dance. Then the front tire blows. and does she monolouge everything?

He scrambled with his phone, trying desperately to reach anyone. Prussia was currently without a license. France still hadn't picked up. Austria was... Austria. England was out of the question.

"Instead Espana pulled over" He could practically here the ellipse. He sends a quick text to France, something along the lines of " Save me!", prays to God that the evening does not worsen, and tries to figure out how to keep Lovina at least a foot away at all times.


	4. My longest chapter thus far

**A/N: Hi Everyone. So I've been looking back on the last few chapters and realized there's an enormous amount of grammatical errors. I'm typing this really late at night, so I'm not surprised, but feel horrible about. Eventually, I may go back and fix them, but for now I'm just going to leave them. Expect more from here on out. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!**

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"Spain." I yelled angrily. "What the cazzo do you think you're doing!" I shouted! He turned to look at me. I sudenly felt kind of angry and lusty at the same time. He was H-O-T. shhhh. Then he got out of the car. I followed him.

He didn't hear me. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!" I shouted getting closer to him. I went around to his side. I stared at him angrily. Our faces were almost touching. His bright green eyes stood out against the ever-blackening night. Then we were kissing. There was tongues involved. His hands were touching me. I started moaning. He began sweating and started moaning too. Then I was no longer wearing my shirt. We started making out against the car. He was moaning louder and louder. I unbuttoned his shirt. I even took of my bra.

"Espana!" I cried. I was growing hotter and hotter. I was starting to Orgasm! "Spain!"

Then... headlights appeared!

"Espagne? What.."

It was... France! And Prussia!

* * *

Now... Spain may be oblivious. You might say, unable to read the atmosphere. But after hanging around for 1500 years you do pick up on a few things. It also happened that being friends with France had taught him a couple a lessons. One of them being, when they start undressing you with their eyes, you run. No questions asked.

He got out of the car, leaving "Lovina" monologing. He bit his lip. He had no clue what to do. His gut was telling him to run like hell. But his head was telling him that he couldn't just leave the girl. She seemed pretty harmless. And he was nothing if not a gentleman.

He leaned against the car, trying to slow his racing pulse. At this point he was pretty sure that this wasn't his Roma. Not that he had much doubt to begin with. After all, this thing had boobs. But it had happened before! With Feliciano. After Holy Roman Empire died. Or something along those lines. That's what Austria told him. Or something along those lines. His head hurt.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!". Spain whirled around to find her mere inches from his face. Dios, her voice was shrill.

She placed her arms on either side of him, effectively preventing him from escaping. She just wouldn't stop staring. Then she kissed him.

She fucking kissed him. Spain started to panic, trying to push her away. He was by no means weak, but he couldn't budge her.

She began moaning loudly and stuck her tongue into his mouth. He was sweating heavily by this point. Not Lovi! Not Lovi!

Then Spain froze. She had unbuttoned his shirt. Oh Dios. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed for it to end.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard his name.

"Espagne!" Lovina let go of him and his legs gave out. Oh Dios.


	5. My new longest chapter thus far

Francois and Prueben made us drive home with them. They made me sit in the front with Gilbo and made Toni sit in the back with Frank. It was so we couldn't have sex in the backseat.

Potato Bastard numero dos kept shouting loudly in prussian. Fucking Potato bastard.

Spain started to cry. He was just so mean. "Scheibe!" He swerved haphazardly. "Not cool" German muttered.

When we were back at the hotel, Luddy, Piano bastard, and a third dude was waiting for us. He was really hot. They were waiting for us.

"Oh Dios" Spain muttered, his celery colored eyes widened.

"What happened?" Germany asked looking at Espagne.

My eyes narrowed, and I held back a snarl. How dare he! I'd seen those eyes too often. Looking at me . "He's mine," I muttered. "I love him" I declared. Maybe now the fucking potato bastard would get the message.

Everyone was silent. I had finally revealed it! I knew Spain wanted to wait to reveal our relationship, but it was time.

Germany and the hunky dude still looked mad, but no one said anything. I grabbed Espanien and ran to our rooms. The other nations glared at us angrily as we left.

I went into my hotel room and brushed my teeth and my hair. I then changed into a black lacy silk bra with a lacy sheer nightgown, that was torn at the bottom, that fluttered gracefully and settled about halfway up my thigh.

I came out and saw Alicia talking to him. I smiled at her, then we bowed to each other. And she went to read in bed. Who said that blondes weren't smart? Bastardo!

I embraced Antonien. I was so flattered that he had waited for me. We frenched. After that, We bid each other good night, and we parted ways reluctantly.

* * *

Prussia and France pretty much had to drag Antonio to the car. His legs had completely given out. They hadn't seen him this shaken in a long time. France and Prussia looked at each other as they supported their friend. "How far?" France mouthed. Gilbert shrugged, glancing nervously at Lovina. Did she monologue everything. Badly, France noted, as she mispronouced their names. Again!

Once they had settled their friend in the back seat, they had to pretty much force Lovina to the front seat. Once they had strapped her in the passenger seat, they took off.

In the front seat, Gilbert grumbled loudly about seating arrangements and a certain Italian.

In the back, France was trying to calm Espagne down, whispering softly to him. Trying to block out the sound of Lovina. He noticed worriedly, the longer she spoke, the worse he got. Very pale. Shaking like a leaf.

"so we couldn't have sex in the backseat." Merde. Could she get any stupider, he thought, as Antonio started to cry.

Prussia swerved sharply on the road. How dare she confuse him for his unawesome brother!

* * *

Waiting in the lobby with Germany and Piano bastard, Lovino was pissed. Really pissed. Shoot 'em all mafia pissed. His brother calls him about some stupid female shit. At which point he tells his brother to kindly shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He loved his brother. He really does. But Feliciano has a tendency to act as a migraine inducer. With the way he goes on and on about pasta. And potato bastards. And pasta. And pasta. And potato bastards. And... you get the picture.

He wouldn't have come at all, if not for the fact that his boss feels the same way about Feliciano. The migraine inducer part, not the brotherly love part.

He slouched in his seat and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the worsening headache. Even then, he only came because he missed- Tomato Bastard might need company. Yes that was it. He didn't want a bored Tomato Bastard to annoy everyone, so that's why he was here. Yes, exactly. Of course. Probably.

Surely his day couldn't get any worse.

"Oh Dios."

And now there were two of him. A decidedly female version of him, but definately him.

Che cazzo.


	6. The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men

The next say I woke up on my tomato, basil, and pasta colored bed. Like my flag. I put on a blue and white striped cami, a sanded denim jacket, and a ripped pair of denim shorts that were frayed at the edges. and high heeled boots that were black organic leather.

Now, this isn't to say that I actually like Hamburger Bastard! Cazzo No! But I think some of the fashions are worth looking at. It's always good to absorb other cultures.

I put only put on one pair of errings, tomato shaped, in my ears, because modesty is key. I twisted my hair in a knot and put in chopsticks.

In the hotel cafe, I ate some wheaties with sliced tomatos on top, and a glass of red tomato juice. Some one bumped into me. Blood spilled all over my top. "Bastardo" I growled. I regretted it instantly, when I turned around to look at the person. I was looking into the beautiful tan face of a boy, with shaggy brown hair, he didn't have cat ears anymore, and he smiled relaxedly when he saw me. He was so sexy, I went all hot and bothered when I saw him. Not like a guy mind you, because I'm a girl. with boobs

"I'm sorry" he said in an authentic grecian stoner voice.

"That's alright" I said. "What's your name?" I questioned curiously.

He paused for a moment. As if he had all the time in the world. "Greece", He said smoothly, "but most people call me Alejandro these days." he said tightly.

"Why." I exclaimed confusedly!

His eyes shifted to the right. Then he looked straight at me. "Because... I love... coclichen... culture?"

"I'm cocolichen myself" I confessed. I couldn't believe it. Someone who finally understood me. The conflict within myself.

"Really?" he said. His eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck yeah! I cried aggressively.

We sat down to talk for a bit. Then I saw Espanino and so I went away.

* * *

Romano, Japan, and the America sat in a huddle. Watching nervously as France and Prussia held up the cue cards. Greece raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue, carefully reciting his lines.

Romano groaned inwardly. If she bought this, she was stupider than the tomato bastard.

"I'm cocolichen myself." And yep.

* * *

All he wanted was a snack from the vending machine. After all, he had reasoned, if everyone else was at breakfast, then there was no way he could run into Lovina.

But the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry. Now, Spain was no mouse, but Dios, does female England scare him. Cursing his luck, as she spots him and begins to approach him, he feels himself rooted to the spot. The blood has drained from his face, and he starts to shiver. She gets closer, and he tries to think of anything but here. Anyone. Oh Dios. Oh Dios. He begins to panic. He nearly giggles in fear.

Oh Dios. Not again. He squeezes his eyes shut. What would Romano do?

"Run idot!" a voice that sounds very much like Romano says.

So Spain runs. Not looking back. He doesn't pay attention to where he's going and eventually ends up in front of two large doors. He glances back, is she after him? He doesn't hear anything, but not wanting to take any chances, He pushes the large door open and enters the room.

"Then I saw Espanino"

And it's out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

Mierda.

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**A/N: Cocoliche is an Italian- Spanish pidgin language that was spoken by Italian immigrants in Argentina (especially in Greater Buenos Aires) between 1880-1950. **

**A pidgin language is a simplified language that develops as a means of communication between two or more groups that do not have a language in common.**

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**I will not be including translations, because I'm only using one word cuss words, that I'm sure everyone knows from reading copious amounts of Hetalia fanfiction. If it helps, most of them are shit and fuck.**

**So yeah. Thank you everyone for reading thus far.**


	7. TEMPER TANTRUM BITCH FIT! yay!

Tonio and I held hands as I guided him to my room. I was wearing silver bangles decorated with elephants on my wrist. I waved to Alejandro. Coolness was in his epic eyes. He seemed relaxed. He must like fucking.

Anyways, Anton sat on my bed while I locked the door once we went to my room. I turned around seductively and swayed my hips. I could see the blood drain from his face. It was heading south (if you know what mean). Like Italy. I moaned. He was so sexy.

I smirked. This was too easy. Slipping out of my bra, I started making my over to the bed, when I saw it! I had never seen it before. It was a bite mark on his neck!

I felt rage cloud my mind. I could barely see straight, let alone think! Now during the beautiful art of sex, I don't bite. Do I look like an unrealistically proportioned, Vampiric, Satanic, Mary Sue?!

"Bastardo!" I screamed shoving him away! "You cazzo fucking Bastardic cazzo!"

He didn't even say anything. Didn't try to defend himself! " Tu eres un hijo de puta!"

I ran out of the room. If I wasn't so angry! I would have confronted him.

Stomping down the hallway, I ran straight into the nation I wanted, no needed, to see, along with Alejandro, Angliaterria, Francisco, Gil, HRE, my baby brother, and a couple others.

I tried to calm down for a moment. Trying to get my thoughts organized. I glared at him. Everyone held their breaths as we glared at each other. No one moved, waiting to see who would move first.

I smirked. He didn't look so tough. "Who.", I began, "Do. You. Think. You. Are. Bastardo!" I punctuated each word for emphasis, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

He looked vaguely amused. "Il nome del Sud Italia. Cagna."

* * *

Well damn. Were they really that noticeable? Spain rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

But as common sense dictates: when the psycho rapist impostor runs off in a poorly explained rage to go bitch at some other nation, leaving you alone, you run like hell.

Spain darted down the hallway, straining his ears for the sound of bangles. Hearing none, he ventured forth, only to run straight into Francis.

"Fra-" France slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Say nothing." he muttered, watching the scene before them. Spain followed his gaze, his eyes widening. Oh.

Apparently, he and Lovina had run in opposite directions, and had there not been a group in between him and the female, he would have run smack into her.

Thankfully, Lovina didn't seem to notice him, for once, her sole focus on Romano.

Actually, nobody noticed him. Nobody moved, nobody breathed. Their eyes focused on South Italy. Romano's poker face was up, though Spain didn't doubt he was smirking.

"He didn't look so tough." Now he was full on cheshire cat grinning.

Spain almost felt sorry for Lovina. Watching South Italy and his doppleganger, he had no doubt this would end badly.

* * *

**AN: And yeah... another chapter. Sorry It's so short, but I'm honestly having trouble getting it over 500 words. My Immortal was extremely short for a fiction if you go by words per chapter. I personally rarely read stories that have less than 1,000 words per chapter. But meh. I'm off on a tangent.**

**On a different note, I feel really proud for getting this up. I feel like I might actually finish this story. It would be my first complete multichapter story. YAYZ!**

**EpicNinjaSushi: Thanks for reviewing you made me feel warm and fizzy.**

**Madam Platypus: Thanks for kicking my butt back into gear.**

**No clue when the next chappie will be up. Could be tonight, could be tomorrow, could be next week. Updates will be sporadic. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	8. Please flame the idiot known as Lovina

The entire group watched, ready to intervene if things got out of hand. My Amigita, Elvira Sombre Ro came around the corner, discovering a commotion of sorts. She placed her hand on my shoulder, touching me intimately.

...

Not like that idiota. All she was doing was trying to calm me down. She closed her eyes and give a sad sort of smile. "Violence is never the answer" she stood in between us. Trying to keep the peace.

Elvira has limpid eyes that portray her hatred of violence that has occured since world war two. Unmentionable things had happened to her. Her lover also cheated on her and divorced her. She can't bear to be around him. It hurts to even think about nightmares that haunt her dreams still traumatize her making her extremely melancholic. Her name isn't Hungary anymore. Since she became friends with me she gave up men and became a lesbian. But I was cool with it. Cause I was a Vargas. Fuck YEAH!

I suddenly spotted Antonio in the background. My gaze met his pupils. He stilled. Like a deer in the headlights. Bastardo!'

"Cheater" I hissed! He gulped. "Mother Effing Cheater!" I couldn't bear it. I had loved him. I had been unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Antuardo. A solitary tear slipped out. I couldn't bear it.

I realized I hated him. Crystal tears started streaming down my cheeks, so I flummoxedly ran to the hotel lobby restroom.

Meanwhile, a certain green eyed nation was completely oblivious to the occuring fiasco, and decided now would be a great time to break before the next meeting.

* * *

**And... Sucky cliffy. I'm starting to flesh out a plot. Sort of. I have a villain at least. You probably won't guess who, though.**

**This chappie's really short, of course nothing happened in it. Meh. Something will probably happen next chapter. I'll also probably go back and edit this in the future.**

**Ah well. There will be a new nation entering the scene next time. Not an OC, I'm probably not going to create a shitty hetalia oc for this story. It will be OOC of course, because everyone's OOC, because this is My Immortal. Bu I'm sure said nation will fit in with the rest of the trainwreck of this story.**

**Please Review. Unless you're too lazy. In that case,just flame Lovina.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. I felt a lack of inspiration

**I have an whole ****1**** flame. **

**I'm so HAPPY!**

**Here's the chappie!**

* * *

I was so mad and sad and angry and arrabbiata y enojada et en colère und wütend en boos и сердито και θυμωμένος والغضب ແລະໃຈຫ້າຍ మరియు కోపంand angry and gogle translated!

I found it dificult to convey my sorrow in english. I slip into other languages when I'm upset. Like arabic. Or Telugu. I began to cry in the bathroom in front of the mirror, where I daydreamed about our passianate night of love fucking earlier today.

Then, a green eyed harlot exited a stall. She had short dirty blonde hair. She wore an outfit similar to Espanito, but with a headband tied in her hair. She was green eyed. This was the half bit nation of... Belgio!

I glared at her, meeting her identical glare. I knew her tricks. It was so obvious that she was trying to seduce Spain. I wouldn't fall for it. Not that little Cazzo!

She wore a wide catty grin. "...Lovina... Vargas." She hesitated. Trying not to upset me, so I wouldn't go maffia on that bastarda's ass!

Then she continued. "I think Romano is kissing Spanje!" I gasped.

I thought of Alejandro. His beautiful sexy hair. How he seemed so relaxed around me. How he was the only one to truly understand me.

I remember how Antonio didn't say a word in his defense. How he remained silent while I accused him of cheating. What if... what if he had got the hickeys from someone before we became lovers! What if it was all a giant misunderstanding!

"NO!" I cried. How dare that she- witch, use her groupies to seduce Spanjendro. I've got to save him! I gave her one last scathing glance as rushed out of the room!

I ran straight into Antonio and a couple other nations I think they were where-the-heck-is-stan-?'s. "Hey Spaink" I said apologetically.

Spain gulped. "Are you OK?" I asked.

One of the Stan's said no. I ignored him. "I'm really sorry." I said. "But I thought you cheated on me."

His eyes widened "I did."

I shook my head. He clearly fears Belgium. "I know you didn't. Now let's go home."

We held onto each other romantically to the hotel room, hugging passionately."

* * *

Spain struggled in Lovina's grip, though she seemed to be completely oblivious to this. He started to panic as he was dragged away from Romano, Italy, Germany, France and Prussia . She didn't even recognize them.

As he was being pulled farther and farther away, he could hear his tomate screaming at "the potato bastard". and a string of German curses that would make a sailor blush.

He started to panic as they got closer and closer to the elevator. As unlikely as retreat was now, her hug having the same qualities of a statue, once they reached the elevator there would be no escape.

And then she let go, sending him crashing to the floor. As he picked himself up, he caught one last fleeting glimpse of it running off, sobbing about how angry she was at the bastarda!

...

¿El Infierno?

* * *

**So the foreign words at the beginning are "and angry" in the languages of english, spanish, french, german, dutch, russian, greek, arabic, lao, and telugu. And yes, they are from google translate. I'm fluent in none of these languages, so there is a high chance of something being wrong. An no, I'm never going to fix it if it is. **

**Most should be pretty obvious where they're spoken. But Lao is spoken in Laos, a tiny land-locked country in south east asia. It's right next to Vietnam and Thailand. **

**I know absolutely nothing about Telugu. I just needed a language that I (and hopefully my readers) had never heard of. Here's a bit of info on it**

**From Wikipedia: **

**Telugu: **a South-Central Dravidian language predominantly spoken in the South Indian state of Andhra Pradesh where it is an official language. It is also spoken by significant minorities in the states of Chattisgarh, Karnataka, Maharashtra, Odisha, Tamil Nadu, and in Yanam, in the union territory of Puducherry. One of the four classical languages of India, Telugu ranks third by the number of native speakers in India (74 million), thirteenth in the Ethnologue list of most-spoken languages worldwide, and the most spoken Dravidian language. It is one of the twenty-two scheduled languages of the Republic of India**.**

**A thanks to **Ms Maddie** and **Madam Platypus**.**

**And nope, England isn't the villain. The villain won't be revealed 'til the end and anyone who appears in the story up to that point won't be the villain. Keep guessing. It amuses me. :D**

**Thanks for reading. Please keep flaming because flames make me feel warm and fizzy and they count as a review on my review counter!**


	10. AN, will take down someday

Spain and Lovina sat down to take a break from this train wreck of a story, and played a game of chess.

Spain inevitably won, simply because Lovina is too stupid at the moment to win a game of lottery, which doesn't even require brains, let alone chess. Then she ran off in wait for the next chapter.

* * *

**Hi. It's been a while since I last updated, and I just want to make it clear that I have not abandoned this. I will finish this thing! **

** 's rules state that something actually has to happen in a chapter (A/N's don't count), so thus you end up with this completely unrelated scene.**

**On a different note, I read ahead in My Immotal, and this is the point where I'm seriously going to start having major issues in creating a plot. The story becomes a complete and utter train wreck, to say the least. **

**On one more note, If you haven't actually read the original My Immortal, therefore not understanding that this is a parody, you should go read it. Normally, I'm a terible writer, but this is plain awful. **

**Thanks for reading.**


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